Lyons to Chamonix

From Paris we took a TGV (very great speed) train direct to Lyons, a beautiful and elegant old town spanning both the Rhone and Saône rivers.  We settled in the charming Hotel Phenix, along the bank of the Saône.  Strolling by the river to dinner we came across a shop specializing in ancient music and another in amazing old instruments, including such rarities as Turkish ouds, baroque serpents and crumhorns, sitars, viols, and archaic brass instruments I could not even name.  Surprising.  We had a lovely dinner by the river.

The next morning two trains took us into the mountains of the Haute Savoie region that we remember so fondly from our circuit of Mont Blanc hike (Tour de Mont Blanc) we did to mark my 60th birthday.  I was so excited to see the jagged granite spires and finally the glaciers and the Aiguille du Midi (needle of noon) atop a peak adjacent to white-topped Mont Blanc.  

Chamonix is unchanged.  Settled in a valley surrounded by spectacular granite spires and glaciers, it is a largely pedestrian-only town of a festive atmosphere with beautiful old hotels and shops.  A brass band in local costume came down the street on an open bus.  Elsewhere we witnessed a street race for waiters, carrying trays of wine, beer and water, being cheered on over several blocks by onlookers.  One sees elegant young French women in chartreuse jackets with coils of pink climbing rope on their shoulders and ice axes on their slim hips.  This is my favorite tourist mecca.

Racing waitress 

Our hotel, situated on the rushing white-water river, has an Irish style pub below with our room affording a view of the mountains on both sides of the valley.  We go immediately to the office of the famous Companie de Guides de Chamonix to investigate weather (and get the phone number of Laurent, our previous hiking guide with our Mont Blanc circuit).  We learn we had better do the over-the-Alps panoramic trip to Italy the next morning because of impending poor weather.  Nice dinner of Croute Savoyard.

We slept poorly due to jet lag, but got up early for a breakfast that sounds ordinary:  croissants, jam, scrambled eggs, bacon, yogurt, fruit in sauce, and coffee, but somehow everything had twice as much taste as usual.   How do they do it?

Hurried to the télépherique that goes to the 14,000 ft Aguille du Midi, but had to wait suspensefully until 9 oclock to find out whether weather would permit our dream trip all the way over the Alps to Italy.  We wait among amazingly fit looking climbers and fellow tourists.  Yes, we can go, before the bad weather!

We climb into the large suspended cabin to sway up to the top.  From there we take a succession of 4 smaller gondolas over the shoulder of Mont Blanc, across two glaciers (Geant and Vallee Blanche), and finally descend onto the green southern slopes of the Italian Alps.  During most of the trip we are in a small gondola with just one other passenger, a garrulous Australian woman more anxious to tell us about her pilgrimage to Compostella in Spain than to concentrate on the amazing scenery about and below us.  We were impressed to see ant-like human figures below, presumably roped together, wending their way across parts of the glaciers.  

Our telecabines

Climbers on glacier

Climbers on second glacier 

Before last gondola to Italy

Toward Italy

Green Italian foothills

Finally arriving in Courmayeur, Italy, we have a relaxed lunch in the sun before taking the bus back to Chamonix through the Mont Blanc tunnel.  Finding it difficult to switch to our limited Italian we decided to stick to French, which works just as well with the local people in this part of Italy that was once part of France.